


The Taper Phase

by popfly



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s like being run over by an armored car, like the impact of gunshot to tac vest. The pride Danny feels for his daughter and something else, something about Steve’s tank top sticking to his stomach, the way his shorts stretch across his thighs. The goofy grin that lights up Steve’s face when he sees Danny and Charlie, waving one hand while he nudges Grace with the other.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taper Phase

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I'd write for this fandom, but Christmas fluff gets me every time.
> 
> This is for Lacey and Lyn and Meg. Happy hols my loves.
> 
> (This is also the first thing I've finished in so long, and the first explicit thing I've finished in even longer. Yeep.)

Grace wants to run a half marathon as soon as she meets the age requirements, and she’s barely 15 when she brings Danny the slip to sign.

“I can do it, Danno, you know I can,” she says, her face hopeful and determined. It’s even more effective than her baleful puppy eyes had been when she was little. 

“Of course you _can_ do it, sweetheart, but should you?” He smooths the form flat on the kitchen table, skims the fields for name, address. Eyeballs the box Grace has checked next to “Junior Registration” and the line where the guardian is supposed to sign. Rachel could sign it, Grace could bypass him entirely, but she wants his support as well. He knows this, and it makes him want to sign even more.

“Mom asked the doctor, he said it was fine. They wouldn’t let kids my age race if it wasn’t healthy for them.”

She’s eminently sensible, Danny’s daughter, and logic wins out. He scrawls out his name with a flourish and hands it back to her. She’s on the verge of bouncing on her toes with happiness, he can see it welling up inside her, but he pins her with a look.

“Steve is running with you, and you will keep a sane pace. No need to be Usain Bolt when you’re still in high school.”

Grace rolls her eyes, but leans forward to peck his cheek. “Uncle Steve already signed up, Danno,” she says, in her duh voice, the one she picked up at said high school. Danny and Rachel got lucky, their girl hasn’t lost her sweetness and kind heart, but she is still a teenager. She sprints away, probably to go twitter or snap or whatever else she’s always doing on her phone, to share her excitement with her friends. Danny picks up his own phone and painstakingly taps out a text.

_I blame you for the running thing. I’m sure I’ve mentioned how much I hate you lately._

The response is quick and predictable.

_You’re welcome, Danno. Love you too._

Danny rolls his eyes - it’s not as if he doesn’t know where Grace gets some of her less desirable characteristics from - and puts the phone down.

~~~~~

The Mele Kalikimaka Half Marathon is one week before Christmas, on a bright and sunny morning. Not that there are any other kinds of mornings in Hawaii. Danny has begrudgingly admitted (out loud even, though he reminds Steve constantly that he was under duress at the time) that the island now feels like home, but he still misses snow and the fresh bite of cold air. Strings of lights look ridiculous on palm trees, and no one will ever convince him otherwise.

Rachel and Stan are out of town, leaving Danny to fly solo during the race. Well, not entirely solo, since Charlie is standing next to him holding an eye-searingly pink sign covered in more glitter than Danny even knew you could purchase in Honolulu.

“How much longer, Daddy?”

“Not much, buddy,” Danny says. The bulk of the runners have gone by, the volunteers at the finish line are busy handing out paper cups of Gatorade and water, and medals to those who finished first. If Steve had run the race solo he’d probably be collecting one himself, but Grace’s legs aren’t as long and she’d promised not to push herself too hard. Danny is expecting to see them any minute now.

Grace comes around the corner at the end of the street first. Her ponytail swings behind her, and she’s so focused she doesn’t notice Charlie waving madly, glitter flying everywhere as the sign swings around in his one fist. She’s drenched in sweat, but doesn’t seem like she’s breathing too hard. Steve is right at her shoulder, face serene and barely damp. When Grace raises an arm to swipe at her forehead, Steve glances over with a flash of concern, but then stares forward again when he sees she’s alright.

It’s like being run over by an armored car, like the impact of gunshot to tac vest. The pride Danny feels for his daughter and something else, something about Steve’s tank top sticking to his stomach, the way his shorts stretch across his thighs. The goofy grin that lights up Steve’s face when he sees Danny and Charlie, waving one hand while he nudges Grace with the other.

The whoop that Danny lets out is a little strangled, but no one seems to notice. Grace gives them a grin and a wave and then they’re crossing the finish line, Steve reaching over to raise one of Grace’s hands in his own. She’s laughing, breathless, and slows to a walk, grinning up at Steve.

“You did it, kid,” Steve is hollering, and Charlie runs over to leap at them like an excited puppy. There’s going to be glitter all over them in a second, but Steve doesn’t seem to care. He pulls Charlie to his side with his free arm, and beams over at Danny.

“Take a walk,” Danny calls, through the tightness in his chest and the lump in his throat. He knows they can’t just stop cold, they need to keep moving, cool down. “Get a drink.”

“You’re no fun, Danno,” Steve says, but he lets Grace go when Danny pulls her in for a sweaty hug. He kisses his daughter’s wet temple and then nudges her away.

“You are incredible, huh?” He pushes her a little farther. “I love you. Go get some Gatorade and cool down.”

“Thanks, Danno,” she says, in her sweet gravely voice, eyes bright. “Come on, Uncle Steve.”

They take a brisk walk around the staging area, tipping back green paper cups and grinning like loons, stoned on their runners’ high or whatever they like to call it, with Charlie skipping along in their wake. Danny needs to lie down, or arrest a bad guy or possibly make a solo appointment with the therapist. He has no idea what’s going on in his head, only that he keeps wanting to stare at Steve’s ass in his shorts.He’s clearly losing it.

“We should celebrate,” Steve says, when their circuit brings them back to where Danny is standing.

“You should shower,” Danny counters, which is true but also brings along a whole lot of images he could live without, especially with his two young children standing right there.

“After we eat. Come on, Danno, a race like that deserves pancakes.”

“Yeah, Danno,” Grace says. “Carbohydrates are very important after a run.”

“I don’t think Runner’s World had pancakes in mind when they included that tip, but okay. If my girl wants pancakes, then we can go get pancakes.” 

Steve smirks at him, like he thinks his opinion on the matter carried any weight at all, which it did not. Danny is only going to deal with going out in public with sweaty people because his daughter wants pancakes. His son seems pretty excited at the prospect as well, practically vibrating as he’s buckled into his carseat. Even with both kids in the car and a non-case related destination, Steve slides into the driver’s seat, ignoring Danny’s request to put down a towel.

“Your car has seen worse,” is Steve’s argument, which is true but not really the point here, Steven. “Just get in, we’re hungry.”

Everyone else in the car is all smiles, and Danny can’t even find it in himself to grumble as he complies.

~~~~~

Now that the realization is there, not even Danny’s best efforts at denial or distraction by way of overdue reports can bury it. Danny is attracted to Steve. He has to sit at his desk and close his eyes for a solid minute before he can admit it to himself in those exact words. It’s not that he hasn’t noticed in the past however many years (Steve would know down to the minute, but Danny isn’t going to barge into his office to ask for an update) that Steve is an attractive man. Danny has eyes, and keen observational skills; he notices the way people of both genders stare when Steve swaggers through a room. But surface attraction is something completely different from what blindsided Danny at the finish line, this feeling of being settled but so off kilter at the same time.

Something similar to what he feels with Grace and Charlie, when they’re all hanging out at home, Grace doing schoolwork and Charlie coloring, or sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal together. Something that feels like family.

Something like what he thought he’d had with Rachel.

Something he thinks he’s been searching for since he came to this island.

That it’s a guy he’s feeling it with is kind of surprising to Danny. He’s slept with guys, but not since before he met Rachel, and he’s never dated one. He was raised traditional, always had it in his head that a wife and kids was the end all, be all, but he’d been there and done that and it didn’t work out. Maybe he needed to think outside the box, so to speak.

What is surprising is that he could be feeling this way towards Steve. Steve who infuriates him at every turn, who drives him crazier than Rachel ever had. Steve who is his boss, and his best friend, and one of the most complicated, damaged people he’s ever known. Steve who is only just getting over Catherine leaving, who has had his own string of failed relationships.

Steve who is standing in his office doorway, navy shirt pulling over his chest as he stands with his arms crossed, grinning at Danny.

“That report must really be something,” he says, and Danny glares. “We got a case.”

Three days to Christmas and they got a case. It never fails. He laments this to Steve as Steve drives them out to the crime scene, and the corner of Steve’s mouth that Danny can see quirks up.

“Criminals don’t take holidays, Danny.”

“Well, they should. Show a little consideration once and awhile. Some of us got families to spend time with. I have presents to wrap, Steven, do you think the thugs of this island care about that at all?”

“Probably not.”

Danny sighs, long suffering, and watches the trees and cars whip by as Steve zig-zags through traffic. “Hey, whoa, I’d like to actually be around when Charlie and Grace open their presents Christmas morning, can you slow down, please?”

Steve’s mouth quirks up further and he doesn’t let up on the accelerator.

“Speaking of, is everyone coming over to my place again?” Steve’s voice is carefully neutral, like he’s just curious, not invested in the answer at all. Danny had come upon him covering a package in way too much tape in his office the week before, Mary’s address hastily scribbled on the top flap. It was full of clothes for Joan and a stuffed pineapple, which Danny had roundly ridiculed him for purchasing. A separate box on the desk held presents for Deb and Leonard. Steve rarely got to see his blood relations on the holidays. 

“Of course,” Danny says, and tries not to notice when Steve’s shoulders relax, his grip loosening on the wheel. “You better be ready, because Charlie has been eating like a horse lately and Grace isn’t much better.”

“I’ll be ready, Danny.”

Danny doesn’t doubt it. Between the amount of burgers Steve normally grills for family get togethers, and the food Kamekona and Flippa bring from the truck, not to mention all the dishes that everyone else brings to pass around and share, there will be a meal big enough for the entire island. The Grovers will come after their morning together, Chin and Abby and Kono and Adam, and they’ll watch terrible movies and laze around and tease each other like they have the last few years. Danny finds himself looking forward to it almost as much as he does his morning plans with Rachel and Stan and the kids, opening presents and drinking Rachel’s tea. Maybe more, since he feels more at home at Steve’s than he does at the Edwards home.

He clears his throat and looks out the window, and yells at Steve about his driving. It makes the weird feeling in his chest dissipate just slightly.

~~~~~

Since Steve hasn’t gotten him killed in a car accident yet, Danny is in fact there to open presents with his kids Christmas morning. The case had been a mercifully short one, with no collateral damage or untimely injuries. Danny wears jeans and a soft sweater Grace had picked out for him, his socked feet tucked under him on one of the plush couches in the family room. A cup of tea steams on the side table next to his elbow, and Stan is doling out brightly wrapped gifts from under the tree.

“A little skinny to be Santa,” Danny says, a lazy barb with no real heat. He doesn’t carry a grudge for Stan any more than he does Rachel, but old habits die very hard. Stan doesn’t even glance up, just passes a box to Charlie and then laughs as Charlie tears into it with gusto.

It’s ludicrous how much stuff each kid receives, a new bike for Charlie on top of one of those hoverboard thingies that are all the rage with the kids, and so many Lego sets Danny cringes, thinking of all the pieces he’ll be stepping on in the new year. Grace gets clothes, piles of them, and iTunes gift cards, and a promise of driving lessons. Which means Danny gets a heart attack for Christmas.

Grace is still going on about learning to drive when they get to Steve’s, and Steve catches the tail end of her sentence as Danny ushers them all inside.

“Whoa, is it that time already?” he says, and he looks half-excited, half-terrified. So he’s halfway to the state Danny has been living in all morning.

“Unfortunately,” Danny says, and reaches for the beer that Chin brings him immediately.

“If you need a teacher,” Steve said, and at least three people in the room chorus “no,” which is good because Danny is too shocked at the suggestion to even speak.

“Thanks, Uncle Steve,” Grace enthuses, leaning up to peck his cheek before dashing off towards the table laden with food. How she can be hungry already Danny doesn’t know.

“As if I’d let you teach my sweet child how to drive, you maniac,” Danny says, when he’s taken a healthy pull of his beer and can speak again. Steve pouts, but Charlie gets him to grin with his litany of presents, dragging Steve off by the hand.

There’s a quick game of football on the beach before everyone troops inside to watch the professionals play, and Danny sits on the ottoman next to Steve’s armchair, nursing a second beer and eating his second hamburger. Charlie and Grace are playing a board game at the edge of the living room, and Lou and Chin are yelling at the game. Kono and Adam are still inseparable, picking up where they left off before Adam’s incarceration. It’s sweet, that they’ve gotten a chance to go back to the honeymoon phase.

Danny looks up at Steve, who just happens to be glancing down at Danny. They share a smile, and Danny’s heart beats funny. He feels his cheeks warm up, and Steve is still looking at him. The corners of his mouth pull down, his eyebrows furrowing. Danny can’t look away. This isn’t just a glance, this is a gaze. Danny is gazing at Steve and he can’t get himself to stop. He’s blushing, for god’s sake, but he absolutely cannot tear his eyes away from Steve’s.

Steve cocks his head, and Danny goes warm all over, and the corners of Steve’s mouth start to lift up again.

“Daddy!” Charlie calls, and it’s plaintive. That’s the sound of an argument brewing. It breaks the moment, and Danny finally turns away. He hears Steve clear his throat behind him as Danny moves over to his kids to halt their fight in its tracks. Grace huffs but moves on, letting Charlie have his way. It’s diplomatic of her, and Danny knows she has to give in more often than not because Charlie is so young. He drops a kiss on top of her head and straightens up, contemplating another beer now that the crisis has been averted. His face still feels hot.

“Danny,” Steve says, voice low and too close to his ear. “Wanna go sit on the beach for a bit?”

The funny heartbeat is back. Danny considers. The kids could blow up again at any minute, but there are plenty of people in the room who know his children well enough to keep them from anything too loud or destructive, and Danny wants. He wants to spend some time with Steve alone. He wants to clear his head, or the air between them, which feels charged in a way it never has before. He nods, and lets Steve precede him out of the sliding glass doors.

They’re quiet as they take their seats, and Danny turns his lukewarm bottle in his hands as he stares out at the water.

“Everything okay?”

Danny looks over, and Steve is watching him carefully, head cocked like it had been in the living room.

“I, uh,” Danny starts. He and Steve may not always see eye to eye, but Danny tries to always be up front and honest with him. There are things that Danny has told Steve that he’s never told anyone else, or at least not in as great of detail. But this revelation Danny’s had, it could change everything. It’s terrifying. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Steve says. It’s pretty lame, in all honesty, but Steve is grinning like he knows it. There’s something other than teasing in his voice, though, something new. It goes well with the softness in his eyes and the tilt of his mouth. Danny takes the plunge.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts again, and Steve doesn’t interrupt. “About you. And me. Together.”

“Together,” Steve says. His tone gives nothing away. Danny waits to see if Steve has anything else to say but the silence stretches out, the night air warm between them, and Danny is too impatient.

“That’s all you got?”

Steve huffs, and when Danny glances over he’s either about to roll his eyes or just finished rolling them. That may be a habit Danny passed on to Steve as well as his daughter. “That’s kind of vague, Danny. You want to elaborate a little? Maybe I’ll have more to say then.”

There’s something challenging in Steve’s voice, and Danny pushes out of his chair. Too many things are racing through his head, and he wants to pace, or go on a rant, use his usual avenues to expel some of the anxious energy buzzing through him. But Steve’s face stops him, turned up just the slightest bit so he can try to catch Danny’s eyes, and Danny reaches out to touch before he can check himself.

Stubble prickles the pads of his fingers, and Steve’s mouth drops open. “Oh,” he says, as Danny fits his palm to Steve’s jaw.

“Yeah, oh,” Danny says, and steps closer, until Steve’s knees are spreading around Danny’s legs. “Get it? Together.”

Danny doesn’t give Steve a chance to respond, leaning down to press their mouths together. There’s no hesitation on the other end, Steve pushing back immediately, hands sliding up Danny’s sides. His head is tipped back at what must be an uncomfortable angle, but the noise he makes in the back of his stretched throat doesn’t sound protesting or painful. It sounds relieved, and pleased, and it lights up Danny’s nerve endings.

“Danny,” Steve says, pulling back an inch. “Danny, my house is full of people.”

The words don’t register, because Danny is too busy reacquainting his mouth with the feeling of male skin, scratchy facial hair that rasps under his tongue as he works his way along Steve’s jaw.

“Danny, your kids,” Steve says, and that gets Danny to lift up, blink. “Your kids are inside.”

“Shit,” Danny says, taking a step back and snatching his hands away.

Steve’s mouth is red and wet, color on his cheeks visible in the bright light of the moon. He lets his hands fall away from Danny’s hips, and Danny smooths down the front of his shirt. The moment is broken, or maybe it’s just paused, because Steve is raking his eyes up and down Danny’s body in a very promising way.

“They’re with Rachel tonight,” Danny says. “I’m dropping them off when we leave here.”

“Can you,” Steve stops, clears the roughness from his voice. It makes Danny shiver in the warmth of the night, thinking just a kiss can make Steve sound so wrecked already. “Can you come back after?”

If Danny comes back, he knows what’s going to happen. It’s too fast, they need to talk. But for once, Danny doesn’t want to talk. They’ve been through worse than a half-assed declarations of feelings and rushed fumbles in the bedroom. If they could survive Steve getting Danny shot and Danny punching Steve, and all the rest of the shit they’ve had to deal with since they started working together, maybe they can make this work too.

“I can,” Danny says. “I will.”

~~~~~

The house is mostly dark when Danny gets back. The front door is unlocked, but Danny flips the deadbolt and arms the alarm as soon as he’s inside, before making his way towards the kitchen. Steve is finishing the dishes, suds almost all the way up to his elbows, beer bottle sweating on the counter next to him. He looks over when Danny comes into the room, and his face is guarded, eyes blank. Like he’d been preparing himself for Danny to change his mind.

“Together as in dating,” Danny says, and hopes Steve picks up the thread of the conversation they’d cut short earlier. The car ride to and from Rachel’s had afforded Danny time to think, and he can ignore the low thrum of arousal that has been buzzing through him since he first touched Steve, at least for a minute or two longer. “As in a couple, as in all the jokes about us being partners in more than one way maybe being a little bit true.”

The snort that elicits should be unattractive, but Steve is starting to smile, one of the big goofy ones that light up his entire face, and Danny would very much like to climb him like a tree.

He’s got more dignity than that, and impulse control, so he keeps both feet on the ground and says, “Is that okay with you?”

The last dish is placed in the drainer, and Steve dries his hands and forearms before crossing them over his chest. “I could be persuaded.”

“Per - you could - oh what, you think I’m the one that should be trying to talk you into this? I’ll have you know I’m a catch, I have many very desirable qualities like being a sane driver and not carrying at least one explosive device on my person at any given time, these are things that any normal person would find very attractive - “

Danny had been counting on Steve learning a new way to silence him, and while Steve’s skull may be thick he’s quick on his feet. He crosses the space between them with two strides and yanks Danny into a messy, playful kiss.

It’s not all-consuming passion that drives them up the stairs into Steve’s bedroom, that has them shucking their clothing without caring where it falls. When Steve pushes Danny into the wall of the landing, he’s grinning, nipping at Danny’s jaw. Danny’s laughing breathlessly, muttering to himself as he fights with the buttons of Steve’s shirt. It’s an extension of their everyday relationship, the banter and the bickering and the affection. The passion is there, but it’s overlaid with everything else that has always been Danny and Steve, Steve and Danny.

They fall into bed together, Steve rolling onto his back and pulling Danny into the vee of his legs, getting them into the perfect alignment with a smirk that goes crooked and then breaks around a gasp when Danny rolls his hips.

“Jesus,” Danny says, watching Steve’s eyelashes flutter as they set a grinding rhythm. “You’re still wearing these ridiculous cargo shorts.”

“Well you,” Steve pauses to pant a few times, hands going vice tight around Danny’s biceps, “still have your shorts on too.”

“Boxers don’t count, Steven, they’re underwear.”

“God, why are you still talking?”

If Danny leans up to kiss Steve, they’ll lose the friction they’re building, so he does the next best thing. He dips his head and closes his teeth around one of Steve’s nipples, and then rides the wave as Steve arches under him.

Eventually they do get their shorts off, and the first slide of naked skin is so delicious Danny can’t stop the groan that escapes. Steve is shifting his ridiculously long legs around on the mattress, finally hooking his ankles over Danny’s calves and hitching Danny’s body up against his own. 

“Here,” Steve says, and reaches down between them to get both of their erections in one big hand, not the best angle or the best grip, but so fucking good. Danny presses his knees to the mattress, opens his mouth against the damp skin over Steve’s pecs, and loses himself to the slick glide.

When Danny comes, he’s digging his nails into Steve’s hips, eyes screwed shut. He pries them open just in time to see Steve come, too, a wet hot rush between them. Danny goes boneless, slides off to Steve’s side but keeps his face pressed close, and Steve half-turns to keep him there.

“You’ll stay?” Steve mumbles, already half-asleep. Danny blinks up at his sweat-soaked hair, the bare slit of eye visible under his heavy lids. He can make his hand work just enough to pat at Steve’s side.

“Yeah, babe,” he says, and wiggles his head around until it’s comfortable on the pillow. “Of course I’ll stay.”


End file.
